


the plural of himbo is probably himbeaux

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, F/M, Humanstuck, Multi, attempted mental manipulation, himbos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: there's a certain kind of something to dating two idiots who are literally too stupid for mind control to actually work on them
Relationships: John Egbert/Vriska Serket, John Egbert/Vriska Serket/Dave Strider, Vriska Serket/Dave Strider
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: Polyswap Winter Promptfest - Dusk Edition





	the plural of himbo is probably himbeaux

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [The_Shame_Basement](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shame_Basement/pseuds/The_Shame_Basement) in the [Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dusk_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Polyswap_Winter_Promptfest_Dusk_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Vriska is a master manipulator, and can control minds on the slightest whim. Unfortunately for her, John and Dave are too fucking dumb for it to work properly, and they are also extremely hot. it's like a Jason from the Good Place kind of vibe.

It's Day 88 of your stupid fucking experiment, and unfortunately for all the losers involved, you've all but given up on making it work.

These boys were supposed to be the easiest marks you could ever find, well-paid male models with side hobbies that made them seem like even bigger idiots than you had ever caught before: John, with his little movie review vlog that practically obsessed over Matthew McConaughey and Nicolas Cage (with occasional guest appearances from his cousin, this weird dude who was even MORE obsessed with _Avatar_ and "blue women"), and Dave, with his almost epic disaster of a webcomic that made absolutely no fucking sense and yet somehow appealed to an incredibly specific common denominator.

(you're not supposed to know about the intricate prank notebooks that John spends hours composing pranks for, filling up the pages up with idea after idea. you're not supposed to know about Dave's secret soundcloud, the tracks he lays down and the mixes he spends his solo hours in the apartment working on.)

Both them are bouncing back in cheerfully, a little late after their latest photo shoot. You don't move from where you are, slumped overtop one of the luxurious couches with an arm flung over your face. You are _sulking_ , and you will not be disturbed for anything while you're in the middle of this deep funk you've tangled yourself up in.

Then again, the last few times you'd attempted to take a moment or two to yourself, to properly brood—

"Vriska!!" That's John, with the doubled exclamation points, and you hear him skid across the floors (you're so damn glad you went along with their weird rule of taking their shoes off at the door, the amount of times they crash into things in bare socked feet is hilarious) to land right beside your glower couch. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"Go _away_ ," you tell him, even as he delicately lifts up your arm to check your expression underneath it. When he sees the ferocious scowl you're wearing, the pleading, puppy-eyed expression he's wearing cranks up a notch, and he turns it on Dave next.

"She's _upset_ ," he says, sounding genuinely distressed, and you feel yet another stab of failure in the gut. It should be _so easy_ to manipulate these idiots. So easy! In fact, you'd be rolling in your triumph if it weren't for the simple fact that they're _absolute fucking himbos._

Seriously.

In all your time having this kind of power over the thoughts and hearts and minds of everyone around you, you have never met anyone who was too _stupid_ for you to control.

Dave is starting to saunter on over, but you think he's moving a little too slow for John's tastes, and you're proven right when John immediately scoops you up into his arms. 

(you do not let yourself dwell on the way his eyes light up when he proclaims it "a princess carry! For my favourite princess!" at all. you would never let yourself dwell on it. ever.)

"There's only one solution," Dave says, and you _still_ can't figure out if he's deliberately dragging out the Texan drawl to fuck with you, or for the fun of it, or if he genuinely thinks it's sexy talk. Maybe it's a _little_ sexy, but that's probably just because he follows it up with a stripped shirt and those fucking abs. "Well, okay, there are probably a ton of solutions, but—"

"Yes," you tell them, because being blunt is apparently the only way you can get them to do _anything_ you want, when you want them to (and you're not going to interrogate that, not going to wonder why it is that it's so much easier to be open and honest with them, to trust that you can ask for something and receive it when you do) when you've run out of every other option. "Let's go fuck."

John practically bounces all the way to the bedroom. You shout about being seasick all over his vintage movie posters, and you don't stop your lecture on proper carrying technique until Dave Strider's kneeling over your lap, kissing you so deep that you'd tip back onto the bed if John wasn't right behind you.

So. Manipulation doesn't work.

You still kinda think you could get used to this.


End file.
